Let Heaven Sing
by Perfections-Cat
Summary: Even in a world carved by snow and cold, the timeless dance of death and rebirth continues.


Author's Note: So, I originally wrote this as my Christmas fic, with every intention of putting some line of the holiday into this. Instead, I ended up with this. The ending seemed like a good place to stop, and so I put up this version without the excess. That said, there's some brief violence in this, so consider yourself warned. Other than that, I hope you all had a great holiday season!

* * *

When it snowed in this place, it swallowed the landscape whole. Nothing but white and cold for miles upon miles, and he was certain that nothing could burn it all away. He wondered why anyone would want to try. In the cold, everything could remain as it was. Frozen in time, in place. A setting so pure in the moment that not even he could wish for its destruction. 

But something always came along. It was inevitable, and he had resigned himself to that fact long ago. Even now, he was waiting for something to come and break the icy silence around him. Something small, so carefully concealed he had to strain to pick up upon the intrusion. It was close, but not close enough. For the moment, he had this place as he wanted it – a deep freeze of life.

He moved not an inch, hovering carefully over the thin crust of snow beneath him. He could have broken through at this point, in the final place he would rest before action would negate the need for stealth. Yet, something in him prevented that. As though to crush the whiteness beneath his weight would be the ultimate offense, a violation of the sacred. . .he held nothing sacred.

Warmth glided up his throat, heating the air he had just taken in. It was a subtle control of the fire his family had been so adept at handling, a gentle manipulation of chakra that still managed to surprise him. _Gentle_ was not a fit adjective for him. Perhaps it wasn't for any who bore the trademark white masks.

It was that very mask that kept the worry at bay; there would be no betrayal of breath to seep out from its confines. Instead, it fogged the inside, causing small beads of sweat to bud along his hairline, his chin. Sasuke had been used to their irritating touches for far too long to be bothered much by them now. Even so, he couldn't wait to remove the mask.

To his left, there came the dull scrunch of snow falling up snow. Sasuke tilted his head to the side, dark eyes focused on a small huddle of evergreens. They still never told him the why's of his current job. Only who, where, and how. Though, all things considered, he realized he didn't need to know the reason behind his commands. Why had never been a problem with him before. In fact he rather liked maintaining a distant relationship with such a loaded word.

Why meant he had to actively choose. Because it was no longer a matter sliced into black and white. When the why was answered, he would have to _understand_, and understanding motives, understanding the choice involved was not something he cared to do any longer. Itachi had given him enough of _why_ and _why not_ . Though he was by no means blissful in his ignorance, he could at least complete the jobs assigned to him with minimal internal damage.

He almost pitied Naruto in his obligation to why.

Almost.

The snow voiced itself again, the sound accompanied by an accelerated flash of white in the air. His muscles tensed, mind just daring each fiber to twitch under a slew of threats. He wouldn't move, however. Too well disciplined for such an amateur flaw. He could at least thank Orochimaru for that.

From beneath a sweep of green, a figure emerged. It took only a second for Sasuke to note the four strands that lined the ninja's hitae-ate. Amegakure. Beneath that, rested the silver-lined scar marking his target apart from all the others that had been assigned to their group. His fingers flexed against the hilt of his Kusanagi.

The Rain nin stopped at the edge of the clearing, obviously unwilling to go any further. Idly, Sasuke wondered how his teammates had faired in their tasks. As far as he could tell, he was already behind schedule – he should have killed this guy before the sun had started to set. However, he had not come all the way out here to fail in his mission. Patience might have not been his particular virtue, but he had learned it under the tutelage of revenge.

Besides, all the best things in life were worth waiting for. Or so he had heard.

Despite that, his index finger itched at the hilt as though it was the sword's anxiety he was attending to and not his own. Finally, another step was taken by his enemy, though he really hated to think of him in those terms. In reality, he felt nothing for him. Only the slightest breath of annoyance when the Rain nin halted once again.

Sasuke watched as the ninja cast a furtive glance about. He could already tell what was on his mind – there was positively no way in Hell he was putting himself in the middle of that clearing. Cowardice, however, bred the best mistakes.

He was already moving when the trap was triggered. Just one step too far forward. With a satisfied smirk, Sasuke sped into the smoke-infused air and immediately unsheathed his sword. The metal of its blade gave a cold, clean ring as it slid from its confines out into the air. Sharp and ready.

But when he struck, Sasuke realized the cut was too shallow to be called life-threatening. Rather than strike again, he waited, letting the after-crackle of fire in the air tell him of his opponent's every incoming move. It was only a matter of seconds before the Uchiha heir sent the scar-betrayed ninja into the center of the clearing.

It wasn't without a small sense of regret that Sasuke watched as the man skidded along the snow, kicking up white with every failed attempt to stop his momentum. It was almost a crime really to destroy such a scene of chilled beauty. Lips pulled upward as a smirk claimed them. Vicious.

He was well-versed in the art of avenging loss.

Even as he sought to recover, the Rain nin was already crafting a jutsu into life. Snow was but water after all, and Sasuke was mildly interested in seeing what his opponent could do with this mutated form of his native element.

The flakes seemed to vibrate in the air, thrumming with some invisible energy as they were held in place. Effectively creating a sphere of white around the opposing ninja, a circle that seemed to shrink further with every passing moment. What once had stood as tiny specks, single personas of snow riding the air, now took on the sinuous curves of a water moccasin.

For a moment, Sasuke was startled by the winter-born creature. Only to stumble over his own shock when he recalled the animal his mask was dedicated to. From then on, the smirk spread into a tenuous smile, amused but in the worst possible way. A gesture fit to break over insignificance. The snow-mantled snake shot forward.

With a crisp _crack_, flames broke out over the outer edges of his Kusanagi. This time his blade did not deceive his intentions.

The water moccasin shattered in a flurry of snow drops, each one bursting further as they were dragged to the earth. And scattered amongst them were fine sprays of red. Every time he drew blood like this, Sasuke imagined that this was how the strings of fate were really severed – not with a simple snip, but a total splintering.

He watched blankly as the body fell, hands flying to the throat, fingers obviously not meant to stop such a rush of red. But they tried, ending by vainly scratching at the slit flesh, the river that refused to dam. There was once a time when he would have sympathized with such a person. Now, he merely looked on, lips curled by disgust.

"Tch. . .Accept your death."

The words were heartless, spoken in a tone that was colder than a fifty-foot freefall through the ice. But he could already see Death in the Rain nin's eyes, a vacant glaze of _gone_. Even if it wasn't accepted, it came.

Turning his back to the corpse, Sasuke slid the mask from his face. Analyzed the flecks of blood across the too-white surface. Yet, the dots didn't seem out of place. Not at all like the crimson staining the snow at his feet.

Eyes shot upward as a cloaked figure came racing out of the woods. Smaller in build that the man he had just killed, yet something whispered to him of power unseen. Hidden beneath as easily as the mask sheltered his features from the world around him. But it was a power he knew.

Sasuke made his way over to the blond, though he stopped once to grab a handful of snow. Using it, he wiped the edge of his blade clean, an act that had some small part of him crying _defacement! _Why sully such purity when his clothes were already stained?

"You're not supposed to remove your mask," Naruto chided, a petulant edge to his voice, the prelude to his village-famous (infamous) pout.

"He's dead."

The blond tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, the corners of his mouth spilling downward as he surveyed the sight. "Yeah. . .but even so. . ."

With a grunt of displeasure, Sasuke slipped his sword back into the confines of its sheath. "You're not wearing yours."

Naruto looked horrified for a moment, and Sasuke couldn't help but wonder what had ever possessed Tsunade to make the blond an ANBU captain. Rather than dwell on that thought, however, Sasuke merely tied his mask to his belt, more concerned with how it sat upon his hip than any of Naruto's facial expressions. He had learned it was better to ignore such things.

It also tended to make situations more amusing.

"So! I'm the captain. . .I can do that. . ."

"Then it's fine for me to do it too."

"What?! No way! Fine! I command you not to wear it!"

Sasuke smirked, beckoned Naruto closer with his index finger. As always, the blond leaned in, eager to see what retaliation Sasuke was going to offer up this time.

And as always, it ended with the Uchiha heir giving a sound flick to the middle of Naruto's forehead. "Why did you come here anyways, moron?"

Naruto huffed angrily as he pulled away, immediately rubbing at the small red mark. "Because you were late! What the hell was I supposed to do – leave you?!"

"Yes."

Not giving Naruto the chance to reply, Sasuke headed off in the direction of their rendezvous point. He wasn't sure whether he hated this situation or not. After completing such a task, he was often overcome with the overwhelming need to be alone. Yet, whenever that feeling washed over him, he would find himself faced with Naruto's limitless hope. Or maybe it was the blond's reluctance to accept solitude.

Six years was a long time to be alone.


End file.
